


I wake to sleep

by peppercake



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Amy and Rick aren't the best of friends, Angst and Humor, Friendship, Light Angst, M/M, References to Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-07 00:29:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppercake/pseuds/peppercake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amy decides to go on a day trip through Roarton, dragging along Rick and Kieren. They end up at a park, where swings are involved, some feelings are discussed and nothing of much consequence happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I wake to sleep

**Author's Note:**

> This very short story is set before the third and final episode of this fantastic TV series. I was a little inspired by the poem at the beginning of the story, which Amy quotes three lines from throughout the story. I warn you for a vague reference to suicide and a bit of swearing. I hope you enjoy this story and I apologise for any spelling or grammatical errors.

>   
> 
> 
> # The Waking
> 
> #   
> 
> 
> I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.  
>  I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.  
>  I learn by going where I have to go.  
>  We think by feeling. What is there to know?  
>  I hear my being dance from ear to ear.  
>  I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.  
>  Of those so close beside me, which are you?  
>  God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,  
>  And learn by going where I have to go.  
>  Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?  
>  The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;  
>  I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.  
>  Great Nature has another thing to do  
>  To you and me, so take the lively air,  
>  And, lovely, learn by going where to go.  
>  This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.  
>  What falls away is always. And is near.  
>  I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.  
>  I learn by going where I have to go.  
> 
> 
> ##### By Theodore Roethke
> 
> #####   
> 

# I Wake to Sleep

“I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.” Amy says to no one in particular.

“What are you on about?” Rick has been wearing that bewildered expression on his face the whole time they’ve been out. Kieren finds it a little endearing and also understandable. Amy is a bewildering person.

“To put as an epitaph on my grave, were I to die again. My older brother found comfort in that poem. I find irony in it.” She says with a small smile, almost wistful. Then she shakes her head, trying to rid it of memories maybe. Her hands descend to grab both Kieren’s and Rick’s shoulders, “So where to next, zom- I mean PDS buddies?”

The three of them are sitting on a park bench in Roarton’s one and only park, talking. Well Amy’s doing most the talking, trying to dispel the awkward silence hanging over them. The whole thing was supposed to be a bit of a day trip, like the kind they made you go on in primary school, when you didn’t know any better, to take in the sights. Not that there was much to see in Roarton, maybe apart from the small museum. But she’d wanted to see the village again, properly to reassure herself that nothing had changed. That it was still the same boring place she’d spent her childhood in, almost comforting in its dullness. She’d originally planned to only ask Kieren along, seeing him as a close friend after such a short time. Rick had kind of been an afterthought and she’d even been surprised when he’d agree to come with. Yeah, it was probably not her best idea.

She rolls her eyes after neither boy speak, “I didn’t bring you guys here on an awesome day trip so you can stew in your obvious unresolved sexual tension.”

“Amy—“ Kieren begins, brown eyes wide.

“Look, what mine and Ren’s relationship may or may not be, has fuck all to do with you.” Rick finishes for him, with a lot less tact than Kieren was probably aiming for.

“Seriously, I feel like the comic relief in your tortured love story,” she says, smirking a lot more than she should at Rick’s furious face. She grabs Kierens’ left arm, dragging him up from the bench, “Let’s go on the swings Ren.” She says then turns to Rick like she’s only just noticed his presence. “Wanna come?”

“He sneers at her, “Yeah last time I checked I wasn’t eight.”

Amy sticks her tongue out of him, “Then suit yourself grumpy. Got up on the wrong side of the grave?”

Kieren’s mouth twitches into an almost grin and Amy finds herself wanting to tell him to smile more, loads more. Happiness sits easily on his face, shrugged on like a much loved jumper, not causing a lump in her throat like his usual haunting sadness. As they walk down to the children’s playground, just sitting at the bottom of a small slope, her fingers slide down Kieren’s arm to his wrist to rub against that raised scar. He doesn’t tell her to stop, merely looking ahead to their destination. Old scars, wounds, they fascinate her. She could spend days looking at the dark blotches the leukaemia carelessly left on her skin, wondering again and again. Why? Maybe her fingers ask the same question now as they press against his skin. As good a friend he is to her, she is to him; she doesn’t think he’ll tell her now, maybe not ever. Rick definitely knows though, Amy has no doubt about that. She can see his knowledge in the hunch of his shoulders and the anger and love continuously warring in his eyes every time he looks at Kieren. All she can do about Kieren’s motive is to guess. She’s a pretty good guesser.

The playground’s empty, with it still being school hours. Even outside school hours, Amy doesn’t think many kids come out to play anymore, what with the residual fear still hanging in the air, thick and cloying, an aftermath of the rising. A roundabout turns gently from side to side in the gentle wind, looking a little pathetic in its dress of fading paint. There’s a hulking rust of a slide, covered in leaves. Someone’s decided to graffiti ‘Our kindom for bleedin rotters’ on the side on climbing frame, which is rotting itself, the wood green and beginning to break off in parts.

“Someone’s put their English lessons to good use.” Kieren says, amusement infusing his voice, and Amy loves him for that.

“A giant red tick for that atrocious spelling though.” She says as she leads them towards the swings, putting on the haughty voice of her GCSE English teacher she hated. She half speculates what happened to her, whether she’s become a PDS or is still alive, choking on her fear. Amy lets go of his arm when they reach the swings, turns to him with a smile says, “Will you be a gent and care to give this lady a couple of pushes?”

Kieren gives her a nonchalant shrug, moving to stand behind a swing. “Go on then,” he says before giving her a mischievous grin she thinks suits him too well. “Your carriage awaits milady.”

“Oh you.” She says, sitting down on the swing in front of him. He places his palm flat against Amy’s back, giving her a gentle push. She twists back to frown at him, “Put some more effort into it Ren. Sticks and stone can’t do shit anymore.” She hear his feet scrape on gravel as he takes one step, two steps back so he can shove her back harder, higher. She squeals lifting her head to the heavens, like the pinnacle of life is sitting on the swings in the swings in that graffiti covered playground.

“My older brother used to take me here, when I was little. When I was well. I used to pretend I could soar, maybe fly away.”

“Everybody dreams about flying I think.” Kieren’s voice is too soft. Maybe he doesn’t want her to hear.

“I decided I’d be a pilot, fly to all these awesome countries, and wear the snappy uniform. I came back once, during my remission.” Her eyes are closed. It’s hard to find a memory not tainted with the undercurrent of pain and weakness. She misses Ian so much. He didn’t want to see her when she came back.

“I used to play with Jem on the roundabout, when she was six and I was nine,” Kieren says, pulling her from her mind from dark places. It doesn’t due to dwell in the musty realm of memory. She’d told him this many times. “We’d pretend it was a spaceship and if we spun it around fast enough, it’d eventually take off into the sky. We used to find Roarton so boring and closed, like a prison of Stepford smiles and so much respectability it made your teeth hurt.”

“I guess you got your wish then. More action now than a James Bond novel.” Behind her, he laughs still pushing her, harder now. She wonders if he pushed with enough strength, whether she’d end up among the stars, somewhere new, somewhere different.

“Does Jem talk to you now?” She can’t stand the idea of his sister still hating him. Kieren’s gone through too much for anyone to truly keep hating him.  
“It’s better now,” his feet scrape against the gravel. “I don’t think she’s forgiven me for leaving her alone. “

She wants to ask more but the tone in his voice tells her it’s probably best to leave well alone. Maybe at a better time, a better place, they’ll talk about it.  
“Is he still sulking?” Amy can’t see the bench from where it behind them, but she can imagine Rick sitting on it, his backside fused to it like a bloody fixture.  
“Yeah,” Kieren replies, “But you should probably stop winding him up.”

This makes her hackles rise for some reason, “Why?” she says, dragging her feet so the swing stops and she can turn round to scowl at Kieren. “He’s done worse to you. He should stop pretending to be something he’s not.” It’s harder to possibly inject anymore acid in her voice than she already has.

“You really don’t need to get involved.” He looks a little pissed to be honest so Amy decides not to say anymore.

They are silent for a little while; it might have been a few minutes, or a few hours, or years, centuries. Not that it matters though. They were something close to immortal. The only sound is the screech of the swing’s chains against its metal frame as she leans he weight into it, the metal chains twisting and untwisting. There should have been birdsong to accompany the noise of metal, but then birds and most living things didn’t like zombies very much. She’d heard that the undead had their own unnerving scent.

“We should get back to Rick.”

“Aww you’re no fun,” Amy jumps up from the swing, attaching herself to Kieren’s arm once again, linking her arm with his elbow.

“You probably shouldn’t do that,” Kieren has that grin that promises good things on his face again, “Rick already thinks we’re lovers or something.”

“We all know Rick is blind and can’t see a thing.” They’re going up the small hill now, getting closer to the bench. As they see Rick appearing into view, she leans into Kieren and whispers in his ear, “And, lovely, learn by going where to go.” Kieren laughs at the look on Rick’s face when they reach him, no doubt annoyed at their feigned intimacy.

Rick gets up from the bench, scowling, “Are we going now?”

She gives him a beatific smile, “I saw an ice-cream van on the way here. I’ll get us each a 99 flake icecream.”

“What’s the point? It’s not like we can eat them.” Kieren offers his elbow to Rick, who takes it after a moment’s hesitation. The three musketeers they are. Or maybe the three dead amigos. The seriously unfunny jokes she tells herself in her head, they crack her up sometimes.

“We can pretend to eat them. Maybe go to my old school,” Amy leads them all out of the park. “You’ll both love it. It looks like something out of Dracula or maybe an Edgar Allen Poe story, not that I’ve read them.”

They leave the park behind and frankly she feels a little glad to leave. It had felt a little sad there, like dreams and hopes had been left there to die. They’d probably been the only visitors in a while. She looks up at the grey sky and feels the too gentle breeze against her cool skin. Somewhere, something was building up. She had felt it in the frightened stares of the villagers, the increasingly loud sermons she heard coming from the church sometimes, promising retribution from the flaming swords of angels and seraphim. But whatever happened would happen and she wouldn’t let it bother her too much. _I feel my fate in what I cannot fear._ Such beautiful words, so full of truth.


End file.
